The carriage rolled onward in absolute silence.
Yanlong sat on one side, his back perfectly straight, his hands resting upon his knees, his eyes closed.
Tianyin sat opposite him with her arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the window where golden plains drifted beneath the late afternoon sky.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence between them wasn’t comfortable.
It wasn’t the peaceful silence shared by two people who needed no words.
It was the strained silence of two strangers who didn’t know what to say to each other…
And weren’t even certain they wanted to find out.
From time to time, Tianyin could feel his gaze settle briefly upon her.
Measured.
Calculated.
As though he were trying to decipher her without letting her notice.
She refused to turn around.
She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
Behind half-closed eyelids, Yanlong silently studied Tianyin’s silhouette.
She wasn’t like the others.
It wasn’t merely her behavior—though her refusal to leave the carriage and the fierceness of her resistance had certainly surprised him.
It was something deeper.
An energy.
A vitality hidden beneath the surface that refused to be extinguished.
He’s as cold as everyone says, Tianyin thought, stealing a discreet glance in his direction.
But…
he’s actually rather handsome.
She froze inwardly.
Why am I thinking that?
She gave the slightest shake of her head, as though to chase away the unwelcome thought, then turned her attention back to the passing landscape.
Across from her, Yanlong was thinking.
I understand why her father didn’t want anyone to see her.
She’s wild.
No restraint.
No respect for protocol.
His thoughts paused.
And yet…
I find her…
rather interesting.
Why would I think that?
His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
It wasn’t the kind of thought he was accustomed to having.
Nor one he wished to entertain.
With the discipline of a man long accustomed to mastering his own mind, he dismissed it.
Then—
The carriage came to an abrupt halt.
A brutal stop.
Violent.
As though the horses had frozen in the middle of their stride.
Tianyin was thrown forward.
Instinctively, Yanlong reached out and caught her before she struck the lacquered wooden wall.
His fingers settled upon her shoulder.
Firm.
Precise.
Only long enough to steady her.
Their eyes met for the briefest instant.
She immediately pulled away and straightened.
“What’s happening?”
Yanlong didn’t answer.
He was listening.
Outside, an unnatural silence had settled over the road.
Not the peaceful quiet of the countryside.
Something heavier.
More oppressive.
As though the very air itself were holding its breath.
Then—
A voice.
Weak.
Trembling.
Desperate.
“Help!
Please…
someone help me!”
An old woman.
Her cries echoed across the road, carried by the wind.
“My village!”
“They killed everyone!”
“Please…
help!”
Tianyin turned toward the window, frowning.
Without a word, Yanlong rose, smoothed the folds of his robe with one measured gesture, then stepped down from the carriage.
He descended the lacquered wooden steps and slowly swept his gaze across the road.
No one.
No old woman.
No footprints.
No trace of human presence as far as the eye could see.
Only an empty road beneath a sky slowly turning shades of orange and crimson.
The wind whispered through the tall grass lining the path.
A flock of birds took flight in the distance.
Everything appeared perfectly ordinary.
Too ordinary.
Tianyin climbed down beside him, narrowing her eyes as she scanned the surroundings.
“You heard the voice too?” she asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“But there’s no one.”
“No.”
Silence.
Then Tianyin noticed something.
“The coachman,” she said sharply.
“Look at the coachman.” This story is hosted at g.com.
The man was still seated at the front of the carriage.
But something was terribly wrong.
He wasn’t moving.
He wasn’t looking at them.
His hands rested limply upon the reins, as though they had forgotten their purpose.
And he was muttering.
Broken words.
Meaningless fragments.
A disjointed litany spoken in a language that wasn’t truly a language at all—
Only overlapping sounds twisting into syllables that carried no meaning.
His eyes were open.
White.
Deathly pale.
Completely rolled back.
Nothing remained but the whites of his eyes.
No pupils.
No irises.
Only a cloudy, milky whiteness that looked horrifyingly inhuman.
“He looks hypnotized,” Tianyin murmured.
“Or possessed.”
Yanlong approached slowly.
His footsteps made no sound upon the packed earth.
He examined the man with the detached attention of a physician studying a patient.
The coachman continued muttering.
His lips moved without producing a single coherent sound.
His head tilted slightly to one side, as though it had become too heavy for his neck.
Then, without warning—
He collapsed.
Yanlong caught him before he struck the ground.
He lifted him with effortless ease and gently laid him upon the earth.
Tianyin knelt beside them.
She searched through the folds of her robe before producing a small crimson cloth pouch tied with a golden cord.
Yanlong watched in silence.
She untied it.
Inside lay a fine powder, almost translucent, shimmering faintly beneath the fading sunlight.
The fragrance of white lotus and sage drifted into the air.
“What is it?” Yanlong asked.
“Powder against illusions,” she replied without looking up.
“My master gave it to me years ago.”
“I never thought I’d actually need to use it.”
She took a small pinch and sprinkled it over the coachman’s face.
The glittering particles floated gently through the air before settling upon the unnatural whiteness covering his eyes.
For several seconds…
Nothing happened.
Then something changed.
The pale veil clouding his eyes trembled.
Slowly…
His eyes returned to normal.
His pupils reappeared.
Blurry at first.
Then clearer.
Sharper.
He blinked several times like a man awakening from an impossibly deep sleep.
Suddenly he drew a ragged breath.
A desperate gasp.
Like someone who had remained underwater far too long.
“W-Where…
am I?” he whispered, his voice trembling.
Yanlong rested a hand upon his shoulder.
“You’re safe.”
“What happened?”
The coachman looked at him.
His eyes were still clouded with confusion, yet the fear within them was unmistakably real.
“Your Highness…”
“I…”
“I’m sorry…”
“I didn’t want to…”
“I couldn’t…”
“Tell us,” Yanlong said quietly but firmly.
The coachman drew another trembling breath.
“I was driving the carriage toward the palace.”
“Everything was normal.”
“The horses were moving well.”
“The road was clear.”
“And then…”
“I heard a voice.”
“A voice?” Tianyin repeated.
“Yes.”
“A voice…”
“So gentle.”
“She was playing the guzheng.”
“A melody I’d never heard before.”
“But it was…”
“It was as though she were calling me.”
“As though she knew my name.”
“As though she had already entered my mind.”
He pressed a hand against his temple, trying to force away the memory.
“I tried to resist.”
“I truly did.”
“But the music…”
“It entered my head.”
“It filled everything.”
“I couldn’t move on my own.”
“It was as though…”
“As though someone else had taken control of my body.”
“What did she want?” Yanlong asked.
“In my mind, I heard a woman’s voice.”
“She said…”
‘Follow me.’
‘Come to me.’
“I didn’t want to.”
“I swear it, Your Highness.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“But I had no choice.”
“She controlled my thoughts.”
“My movements.”
“Everything.”
The coachman lowered his head.
Tears welled in his eyes.
“Forgive me, Your Highness.”
“I was unworthy to serve you.”
“I placed you in danger.”
“I…”
He never finished.
His eyes rolled back once more.
His body stiffened.
Then he collapsed unconscious, his head falling limply to one side.
Yanlong slowly rose.
His gaze shifted toward the forest bordering the road.
Dense.
Dark.
Its towering trees stood like silent sentinels.
Something inside that forest wasn’t natural.
Something was watching.
Waiting.
Tianyin stood beside him.
They remained there.
Side by side.
Without speaking.
Then…
They heard it.
Music.
Soft.
Enchanting.
Hypnotic.
The sound of a guzheng played by masterful hands.
Its notes drifted through the air like threads of silk.
Wrapping themselves around the two of them.
Drawing them toward the forest with invisible force.
Yanlong felt his knees weaken.
No.
He fell.
One knee struck the ground.
Then the other.
His hands caught himself as his vision blurred.
Tianyin reached for him.
But he was too tall.
Too heavy.
She slipped.
Lost her balance.
And fell as well.
Her forehead struck a stone.
A sharp pain exploded through her head.
Warm blood trickled down her temple.
She raised a hand to wipe it away before glancing toward Yanlong.
He was gone.
Her heart stopped.
“Yanlong?”
She struggled to her feet despite the dizziness.
“Yanlong!”
Nothing.
Absolute silence.
He had disappeared.
Completely.
Where is he?
Where?!
She turned slowly toward the forest, her heart pounding wildly.
The trees seemed to be watching her.
Motionless.
Silent.
Threatening.
The music continued.
Gentle.
Deadly.
She drew a deep breath.
Every instinct she possessed screamed at her not to enter.
But Yanlong was in there.
Somewhere.
Alone.
Defenseless against whatever that thing was.
And she wasn’t going to abandon him.
Not a chance.
Clenching her fists, ignoring the pain throbbing in her forehead, she broke into a run toward the trees.
Toward the unknown.
Toward the danger.
Toward him.